Urban Graffiti
by forksocket-romance
Summary: Who knew spray paint and fumes could lead to love.


**myNotables: **I do read the manga and know the fate of some of the characters I'm putting in my story, but! they're just too awesome to leave out, ne? so just pretend and read! oh, oh, oh, aaaannddd hiya!–be warned, I'm just a bit eccentric at times :D.

I accept constructive criticism and flames.

**Standard disclaimers apply**

* * *

"Are you ready?" a voice asked. 

"As ready as I'll ever be," another answered.

Two bodies stood in front of a high iron fence, their silhouettes dimly outlined by the light of the moon. They were clad from head to toe in black, their hair tucked underneath dark beanies and their feet adorned with classic black Converse. There was a noticeable height difference between the two, the shorter was on the left wearing the low-top Cons and the taller was obviously on the right wearing high-top Cons. The largest of the pair, carried a large black duffle bag, which strapped onto the back of the right shoulder and was held steadily in place by their right hand.

Taking a deep breath, the tinier one stepped up to the metal gate and began to climb, holding onto the winding ivy and hoisting their self upwards towards the top. When the moonlight hit the side of the body as they were climbing over, it was obvious–from the curvy physique–that the climber was a girl. As her other foot was securely on the other side of the matted bars, she jumped from the highest point and landed effortlessly without a sound.

Brushing imaginary dirt off her baggy black cargo pants, she pursed her lips and whistled a high soprano note until she heard the same note in a low baritone reply from the opposite side. She could hear her partner as they climbed, and prepared for the bag to be dropped from above when the other part of the team reached the top of the barricade.

Hearing a soft _woosh_ noise, the girl extended her thin arms outwards and caught it, setting it down next to her as she waited.

Her ears perked when she heard a stifled gasp from above, and craned her neck for a better look. Her eyes locked onto the stilled figure of her partner at the top of the iron gateway, breathing heavily and climbing slowly down until both feet hit the ground. It was obvious to her that her companion was in pain, for their hands were clutching their crotch region rather desperately.

She snorted in amusement. "Had some trouble up there? See, sometimes it's good to have two X chromosomes instead of a penis."

"Shut up," he breathed shakily, leaning against a brick pillar. "You could have told me about the point at the top."

"I could have…" she teased innocently. "But that would've ruined the surprise."

Vaguely, she could see the outline of her partner's middle finger in the dim glow of the moon.

She only grinned in response.

Closing his eyes, he calmed himself and stood straight, slinging the bag over his slightly broad shoulder. His legs started to progress in long even strides as he began to walk, signaling the shorter girl to get a move on. Stealthily, the boy set down the bag, and began to unload the supplies, handing the girl certain equipment so they could begin.

To any passerby, it may have looked like two delinquents trying to break into the most honored building of the city and try their luck with the law. But it was something different, totally opposite in their opinion. They were making art, not just any art, but graffiti.

Spray can after spray can emerged from the duffle bag. Green, blue, pink, red, purple, black, silver, yellow, turquoise, gold, any color you could possibly imagine was in one of those cans. A long thick strip of cardboard was pulled out and rolled out in front of them, for the protection of their knees from the hard ground. Face masks, gloves, and stencils were pulled out and the bag was tossed aside for the time being.

The boy pressed a button and glanced at his watch, before setting it to a timer; it read 11:37 PM in large black numbers against the bluish light of the background. He showed to the girl to his right who was getting suited up, tapping the screen meaningfully, as to say 'we don't have a lot of time'. She nodded back to him and grabbed a can of light green, shaking thoroughly before apply it to the brick wall in front of her. Her partner quickly followed suit, getting lost in the fumes, curves, and shading of their soon-to-be work of art.

About two hours went by before they finished up completely. Standing back, they admired their artwork from afar and gave each other thumbs up of approval, grinning madly through their masks.

**--&--**

The next morning was a hazy blur.

The noise from an obnoxious alarm clock rang through the small, disorganized two room apartment. An irritated groan erupted from a body of teenage female lying strewn across a spacious dark blue couch, trying–unsuccessfully –to block out the din from the clock. Scowling, the arm of the girl lashed out and hit the head of a boy's head that had been leaning by her. The body of the boy had peacefully been sit-leaning against the body of the couch, until it was pushed and the male was jerked half awake. He groaned in response to the hit and tried to reposition himself to get more sleep, but the girl's voice sounded almost in his ear, over the alarm.

"Deiii," she whined. "Go turn off that damned alarm of yours."

"You do it. I'm trying to sleep, yeah," he responded, shifting his position.

"That goes for both of us. But it's your house, so you have to turn it off," she argued sleepily, laying on her other side.

"My ass," he replied shortly.

A moment passed between them before the girl got up, swearing underneath her breath and turned off the alarm in the room down the hall. She was still in her clothes from the night before, she noticed as she made her way into the only bathroom. Looking into the mirror, the reflection staring back at her was the one and only Haruno Sakura. Her appearance looked a little worse for wear, but it was nothing a hot shower and some clean clothes couldn't fix.

"Yo Deidara," she called from her position. "Turn on the television, we should be on the news."

She heard him grunt in recognition before hearing the familiar click of the tv turning on, and the flipping of channels until she heard the dramatic music of the morning news. Walking back into the room, she ran a hand through her short locks and vaguely processed the Deidara had taken his hair out, shaking it out to its full length at a little past his shoulders.

He didn't even make a gesture to show that he noticed her walk in the room, but did shift himself a little to the right when Sakura made a move to sit next to him. Getting comfy they used each as support as they watched and waited for a segment they _knew_ was going to be aired before the actual news station did itself. Both their eyes lit up when they saw their artwork had made top stories news.

"It seems they have struck again," the news reporter announced. "Just last night, the TagTeam–as the locals call them–have tagged another structure in the city of Konoha. This time the target was the city's most revered building, Nakamura Hall, which has been rumored to be the birthplace of the founder of the city, Kimihiro Nakamura."

Vaguely, Deidara brought the bottom of his t-shirt to his nose and sniffed, taking a big whiff of the linen. Immediately he coughed and sputtered, the scent of paint fumes were still strongly present on his shirt and had overwhelmed his senses. Slightly disoriented, he pulled off his top and threw it across the room, leaning back against the couch bare-chested. Sakura gave him a look and he just shrugged, turning his attention back to the story.

"Paint fumes," he answered to her silent question.

Now there was a new woman on the screen, standing in a fashionable green trench coat outside the building. Holding the microphone up to her mouth, she spoke.

"This is Akane Matsubai, and I am standing outside the TagTeam's lasted masterpiece on Nakamura Hall," the camera shot widened, showing the urban artwork along with the reporter.

"It seems this time around, they have gone more for the 'anarchist style'. Almost the entire left wall of the mansion shows a bearded homeless man sitting, holding some sort of cardboard sign on the sidewalk. The note on the board says, 'Screw your money, I want change'," the woman let out a rehearsed sound of amusement. "Well it seems that picture means thousand words and then some, wouldn't you say Natsuri? Back to you."

The shot panned out and came back to the reporter at the desk, her little smile played out for the viewers at home. "I'd say so Akane. This is the end of top story of the morning; if anyone out there has any information about TagTeam, their whereabouts, or their next target, please call the number at the bottom of your screen. Thank you."

The two grinned widely at each other from their spots against the couch, pounding fists. Deidara ruffled Sakura's pink tresses affectionately as she shoved him away playfully, both of them laughing triumphantly in another successful job. Shushing each other, they pulled their attention back to the television set, curious of what story was coming up after theirs. When they saw it was something about a 3 car pile-up on 2nd street, Deidara turned the channel to some random morning kids cartoon.

**--&--**

Sakura stepped out of the shower. Quickly, she wrapped herself in a white towel and tucked the loose end corner by her arm. Walking across the cool tile, she could hear the sound of running water from the faucet and someone violently brushing their teeth; she didn't have to guess who it was.

Deidara stood in front of the sink, clad only in a pair of dark low-slung faded jeans. His still damp hair stuck to the back of his neck, making tiny droplets of water run down his bare back. He bent over and spit the contents of his mouth into the bowl, then turned on the tap and rinsed the toothpaste out of his mouth. Picking up a smoothly-curved plastic bottle, he glanced up at the mirror and stuck his tongue out playfully at Sakura's reflection before squirting some bottled hair product into his hand.

Flipping him the finger as she left, Sakura took a right towards his bedroom. She didn't bother to close the door after she entered; if Deidara saw her naked she wouldn't really care, he had seen her body plenty of times before and vice versa. Shuffling through his large selection of clothes, she finally pulled out a pair of army green cargo pants and a fitted black v-neck shirt that she'd left there a couple weeks ago.

"Oi, I'm borrowing some clothes!" she shouted.

"You don't have to yell, yeah," Deidara pointed out, walking into the room.

She blinked. "Oh, I thought you were still the bathroom."

He took no notice of her nakedness as he shuffled lazily across the room. Sitting down on his bed he pushed her clothes out of the way and reclined on his unmade sheets.

Still bare, she made her over to his only dresser. Opening up the second drawer, she found all his unmentionables–which more mostly just boxers and various condoms. Rummaging around, she was surprised to find a pair of her light blue boy-cut panties towards the bottom of drawer and a black bra.

Holding up her lady linens for a second, she turned to him. "Dei, when do I leave all this stuff here?" she asked, slipping them on. She tugged at the elastic of her underwear around the curve of her butt, as she came over the bed. Reaching over Deidara for her clothes, the cup of her bra accidentally skimmed across his abs making him open his eyes.

He shrugged from his position. "I don't know, Sake. Probably after a hard partying night or something, when you don't feel like going back to your place, yeah," he replied, sitting up after she had moved away.

Sakura grinned at the use of her nickname. Deidara had given her that name the day after they had gone to a huge rave at the Warehouses downtown, a couple years back. She had been up against some big guy–almost twice her size –in a drinking contest. The guy had challenged her, thinking that it was going to be an easy win because of her small stature. But he had underestimated her and by the end, she stood victorious with seven and a half empty bottles of sake, while her opponent was passed out across from her.

Deidara on the other hand had picked up a white band-tee, sniffed it, and promptly slipped it over his head. Ignoring his obvious bachelor tendencies, Sakura slipped on her clothes and searched the messy floor for a belt; having no luck finding one in the dresser or on his bed. Her fingers wrapped around a black studded belt and gingerly inserted it through the belt loops, making sure the extra tail of the belt was tucked away securely. Although the extra was hanging freely on her left hip–to short to go in the next loop, to long to stay out–Sakura wore it like it a fashion statement.

Across the mediocre-sized room, a pair of pinstriped high-top Converse had just been laced and tied. The owner rose to his feet and strode across the room, picking up his necessaries–wallet, car keys, a hair band, and Aviators–as he walked out and towards the kitchen.

Exiting shortly after him, Sakura went in search of her own shoes. Finding them underneath the side table next to the couch, she checked for any noticeable paint splatters before putting them on. Now adorned in her beloved pair of low-top black Converse, she walked in the direction of the scent of breakfast. The smell of coffee and toast entered her nostrils, as she peeked her head around the corner at the end of the hall. At the counter, she could see Deidara stirring a spoon in one of those thermal stainless-steel coffee mugs.

She looked at the coffee pot; it was clean. "How–when'd you make coffee?" she asked, mildly baffled.

He poured in unmentionable amounts of cream and sugar, before closing the top and shaking it violently. "It's instant, we don't have enough time for the real stuff," he tapped on the clock on the microwave screen above him. They had already missed first and second period. "And I don't wanna miss that fight between Tobi and that Aoi kid from another district, yeah."

"Oh right… the fight," she had totally forgotten.

He shoved a piece of toast in her mouth as he opened the door, "Well, now that you're all caught up and such, let's go, yeah."

--&--

Pulling himself out of the car, Deidara yawned and stretched his arms out over his head, making the snug tee around his upper body, lift significantly and show off his lean midsection; which only made Sakura raise an eyebrow.

"You know every time you lift an arm today, the girls are going to be all over you."

He leaned against the roof of his car and smirked, pushing down the top of his sunglasses on his nose, until she could see his deep sky blue eyes. "Tch, when _aren't _they, yeah?"

Deidara leaned back off his car and pushed his Aviators back up to their original position. Ducking back into his car, he reached his long arms into the backseat and produced two backpacks from the car floor. He threw the black canvas messenger bag to Sakura, and slunghis own old-fashioned leather seated black JanSport backpack over his shoulder.

Shutting the car door, Sakura mimicked him and closed the passenger side door on her side. Locking the door manually with the key, Deidara stuffed it in his front pocket and jogged to catch up to Sakura, who was almost up on the school's sidewalk.

Falling into sync with her, they both walked the tan concrete sidewalk of Konoha Preparatory Academy or KPA. Konoha Prep. had been–and still was–the leading academic school in all of the country that was cranking out geniuses faster than you could say 'Mary Mother of Einstein'.

It was true, and thanks to that title, the school had gotten a major upgrade over the summer. Larger lecture halls, new linoleum floors, and brighter fluorescent lighting adorned the inside of the brick building. Along with three new rooms occupied with high-tech computers, an increase in the art supply budget, and even some new fancy state of the art kitchen ware for Cooking and Home Economics classes.

But that also meant that the tuition was an arm and a leg–and then some, to pay. It almost as much as Ivy League schools charged their attendants, if not more. You were either immensely lucky to be accepted there on a scholarship, rich out of your mind, or dirt poor to be sending your kids there. But if you paid for your child to go there, at least you knew what you were paying for. The campus was huge!

They made sure to take the side entrance into the school, taking the nearest flight of stairs up to the second floor. And for extra precaution they had avoided using the regular stairs–and had traded up for the emergency fire stairway instead, to avoid any unnecessary run-ins with teachers or students.

With a soft _click_ – the thick metal door shut softly, the sound bouncing off the high ceiling, accenting it with greater volume in the enclosed space. The high walls were painted a light beige color and contrasted deeply with the grey stone steps that had seen little use in their years.

Deidara climbed the stairs hurriedly and spoke just as fast, as Sakura raced to keep up. "Hurry it up, yeah. Tight spaces bother me." He was suddenly anxious, making his claustrophobia apparent.

Pushing the door open, Deidara exited the stairwell stealthily while Sakura trailed close behind. The second floor was deserted just like they had hoped, all the classroom doors were closed tight and the only indication of life was the steadily distant sound of high heels clicking against the floor.

"You two do know this school requires uniforms, right?"

It was more of a rhetorical question Asuma had asked them, as he watched Deidara and Sakura walk across his class room from his position at the chalkboard. He was slightly annoyed that they had come in and interrupted his extremely interesting–at least in his opinion–lecture on the importance river valleys had on civilizations of the past.

A lit cigarette teetered precariously between his lips as he spoke.

"Did you two hear me?" he asked a little louder, the authority rising in his voice.

"Yeah, yeah," Sakura replied flippantly, dropping herself down in the second to last row, next to her unmoving heap of a seatmate. Deidara followed suit, passing her on his way to his seat on the opposite end of the row by the window, eyeing his teacher's addiction disdainfully as he went.

"Hey teach, you shouldn't be smoking that stuff in the classroom, yeah."

"And you shouldn't be coming to class late," Asuma retorted.

The class looked back at Deidara expectantly–as if watching a tennis match–waiting for a smart-ass comeback or an oh-so-generous extension of his middle finger. Breath was baited, tensions were high, and somewhere in the corner of the room two students betted what color Sakura's panties were.

Deidara simply leaned back is his chair, balancing casually on the back legs. He knew everyone's attention was on him–and he loved every second of it. How could he not? All eyes were on him, waiting for his next move, but he simply looked the other way and eyed the view outside the window, suddenly bored with their exchange. Some students just groaned with displeasure, they wanted some _action_, some _drama_, some _angst _even, to spice up the dull-as-mud class. But then, they held their breath as Deidara rose an eyebrow.

"We have a new student, yeah."

**

* * *

myNotables:** and WA_BAM_! instant drama. 

nah, just kidding, but I gotchya, didn't I?... I like to think I did. so my first chapter's up and I dunno when my second will be cause I'm kiiinda busy with stuffs. and I still gotta do my summer reading for APenglish!

wish me luck (oh, and review)!

fork-chan _out_!


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